Ethiopia is a world away, but its people have a saying about back-stabbers, similar to the adage we know as, "Don’t bite the hand that feeds you." This became literal truth during one of my forays to Ethiopian Love, a former Kapahulu pop-up that has set down permanent roots in Chinatown.
As a couple of friends and I sat down for a beautiful lunchtime feast, owner Abraham Samuel, who doubles as waiter, explained that in his home country it’s customary for families to sit down to a meal together and feed each other with their hands, a gesture of love and affection called "gursha."
Wonderful, no? It’s a practice we tend to share only with young children, and the custom of bride and groom feeding each other wedding cake. But, in Ethiopia, it’s practiced daily as a means of bringing families close.
So we tried it. I, with my video camera in hand, couldn’t really see the food coming toward me. So I bit my friend’s finger. (Visit my Take a Bite blog at honolulupulse.com/ takeabite to witness the meal.)
Oopsie!
My first experience with Ethiopian food was 20 years ago in Washington, D.C., where I spent three months as a Gannett "loaner," when newspapers across the country helped staff the then-fledgling USA Today. I loved the city’s diverse cuisine and happily ate up food from Peru, Afghanistan, Jamaica and more, that hadn’t been bastardized by Western hand or palate.
I enjoyed all of it, but the Ethiopian cuisine was particularly memorable in its zero-waste use of "injera," or "enjera," bread as platter and utensil for meals eaten with the hand.
The injera is a spongy, fermented and gluten-free flat bread made with "teff," a cereal grain native to Northeastern Africa and Southwestern Arabia. With the push for more gluten-free alternatives, you’re going to be hearing a lot more about teff in coming years.
It’s now being grown in the United States and is considered the next supergrain. One cup of uncooked teff provides five of the B-complex vitamins, plus vitamins A, E and K. It’s also high in protein, calcium and iron.
Apparently, when it comes to making injera, teff is also temperamental, and Samuel said it did not like the Kapahulu water, forcing them to use bottled water. Chinatown water works better, but the results can still be uneven. The bread is sour, and the strength of that sourness varies. I like it best when it’s not so sour.
As for the rest of the food, add "tibs" and "wot," or "wat," to your vocabulary. Tibs are quick sautes of small pieces of meat, and wots are thicker stews.
If you like the cuisine of the Middle East, Morocco and India, you will have an affinity to Ethiopian cuisine and the complexity of combined spices. Yet, Ethiopian cuisine is in a world of its own. "Berbere" is an essential pepper seasoning, and it combines so many spices you will have difficulty pinpointing which you are enjoying in a dish. Blends might include cumin, cardamom, pepper, fenugreek, ginger, turmeric, cloves, nutmeg, red chilies, allspice and paprika.
Paprika ran strong in many dishes, including a sauce that accompanied appetizers of sambussas, similar to India’s samosas, light pastries filled with lentils, green onions and herbs (two for $6.50). Hints of allspice and red chili peppers in some sauces reminded a friend of Chinese cuisine.
Meat lovers will find much to enjoy in dishes of alicha wot (turmeric-braised beef with stewed onions and tomatoes, $15), doro tibs (chicken sauteed with onions, garlic, tomato, spices and herbs, served hot or mild, $14) or Love Ethio (lamb stewed with onions, garlic and "kebe," a mild cheese, $21).
But it’s the vegetarian and vegan set who have the most to gain here.
Instead of viewing vegetables and legumes as an afterthought, they are essential to an Ethiopian meal, and options are equal to the number of meat entrees. They include miser wot (a stew of spicy red lentils, $14), atakilt wot (cabbage cooked with carrots, turmeric, garlic and ginger, $13) and romi (a saute of mushrooms, zucchini, onion and tomato with Ethiopian spiced clarified butter, $14). I especially loved the miser wot and azifa ($13), a refreshing salad of lentils, onions, jalapeno and lemon juice.
To get a better feel of this aspect of the menu, pick a veggie sampler ($15) featuring the miser wot, kik alicha wot (yellow split peas with turmeric, garlic and ginger) and atakilt wot. Or opt for the Ethiopian Love veggie sampler of six vegetarian dishes of the day for $20.
Besides the sambussas, all the dishes arrive together on one platter, which means you will spend time waiting. This is fine in the evening but may be problematic for a lunch crowd expecting to be in and out in an hour. I don’t know if this is possible because of the slow nature of this cuisine.
When the platter does arrive, it won’t look like much food to share by American standards, but as you scoop currylike morsels onto the injera bread, you will fill up quickly. I could eat no more than two 3-by-8-inch rolls would allow.
On my first visit, I ordered two meat dishes and the veggie sampler, about the size of a plate lunch each. Three people managed to eat only one plate’s worth of food before filling up. At that point we gave up on being culturally sensitive and requested forks to finish more of the delicious wots and veggies, without the injera.
That never happened in D.C., but here the food is so good we couldn’t let it go to waste.
Nadine Kam’s restaurant reviews are conducted anonymously and paid for by the Star-Advertiser. Reach her at nkam@staradvertiser.com.
BITE SIZE
Store is a candy lover’s dream
Candy lovers are in for a treat with a visit to Candy Bar Hawaii, the only candy store of its kind in Waikiki, with its mix of hard to gummy candies, nostalgic flavors and made-in-Hawaii artisan chocolate bars from Madre Chocolate and Manoa Chocolate.
The locally owned boutique carries 400 types of candy from around the world, stored in bins and glass jars. Customers can mix and match flavors and textures for one flat $19.99 per-pound price. Flavors range from tropical mango or pineapple to Violet Crumble, and textures of black licorice to multiflavored taffies. The myriad colors and taste sensations are a treat for the eyes and senses.
Those who want to reach back to the past will also find caramel Squirrel Nut Zippers, a candy first made in 1890, and the 1950s peanut butter Chick-O-Sticks.
Candy Bar Hawaii is open 10 a.m. to 11 p.m. daily, on Waikiki Beach Walk, at 227 Lewers St., No. 127. Call 798-9072.
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